


Late

by oldmoviebuff



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale has a vulva, Body Worship, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love Confessions, Multi, Other, Requited Unrequited Love, crowley is seriously enamored by aziraphale, female-presenting aziraphale, like ALL of the fluff and sugar, male-presenting crowley, minor PTSD, waay too fluffy for my taste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 18:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21150044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmoviebuff/pseuds/oldmoviebuff
Summary: Maybe it was the copious amounts of celebratory champagne. Maybe it was the stress of the last twenty-four hours. Maybe it was the release of thousands of years of sneaking around. Maybe it was a little of all three. Whatever it was, it struck Crowley like a brick wall the second he entered Aziraphale’s restored bookshop. Restored, because just this time yesterday, it had been engulfed in flames.





	Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SweatySinner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweatySinner/gifts).

> Based off of an unofficial 'write a scene to go with this' challenge on tumblr, by @sweathands  
The first part of this is the scene I wrote to go with the image, then I decided to expand it to a full story.  
WARNING: A ridiculous amount of fluff ahead. Like I almost sickened myself. But it went with the pic, so I ran with it. (I've read fluffier fics than this, but as for writing them, this one is certainly out of my comfort zone)

Maybe it was the copious amounts of celebratory champagne. Maybe it was the stress of the last twenty-four hours. Maybe it was the release of thousands of years of sneaking around. Maybe it was a little of all three. Whatever it was, it struck Crowley like a brick wall the second he entered Aziraphale’s restored bookshop. Restored, because just this time yesterday, it had been engulfed in flames.

Crowley’s vision swam and lines blurred as he tried to maintain an air of nonchalance. Aziraphale was going on about something. A picnic perhaps? He couldn’t tell. Aziraphale’s posh, melodic voice was lost to the sound of sirens, warbled records, and roaring infernos.

He had been there only that morning, but he was on a mission then. His mind running on the single track of, ‘Must be Aziraphale.’ But now? He was there as Crowley, the way he had been yesterday, when he was too late.

It was all too much.

Crowley fumbled into the nearest chair, collapsing like the bookshelves around him had the day before, trembling uncontrollably. If he had been able to see past all the smoke clouding his vision, he would’ve noticed Aziraphale’s concerned expression as he returned to the room with a bottle of their favorite Red, and made a more valiant attempt to collect himself. He still likely would’ve failed, but he would’ve tried harder nonetheless.

“Crowley, dear boy! Whatever is the matter?” The bottle and glasses disappeared from his hands, as he rushed to the quaking demon, kneeling before him.

Crowley, still trapped in his vision of smoke and ash, could only hold his head between his legs, drawing blood into his mouth with the force he was biting into his lip. Fire, water, books, sirens, no Aziraphale. He stilled suddenly when a pair of warm, soft arms enclosed around him and he felt the telltale plush of the Angel’s belly press into the top of his head.

“Now, now, my dear. Whatever it is, it’s alright now.” Aziraphale whispered as he gently stroked his back. How brilliantly imperfect this Angel was. Of course he would stoop to cradling and comforting a demon, like he was as worthy of his love as any other of Her creations.

Crowley took a few stuttering breaths and blinked the last of the fire from his eyes, before he raised his body and met Aziraphale fully in his angelic arms. “…I’m sorry….”

“Sorry, for what, my Dear? You’ve been magnificent!” Crowley’s heart broke at the undeserved sincerity in Aziraphale’s voice.

“I’m sorry… I was late…” the gentle caresses on his back came to a halt as Crowley forced himself to continue.

“They came after me… I-… I got away, then came straight here… but your shop… you weren’t… I thought they got to you first… you weren’t here… I’ve always managed to… before… but I was too late… you were gone…”

“Stop that this instant!” Aziraphale’s tone turned so harsh so quickly, it shocked him to silence.

Crowley’s head was tenderly raised to meet Aziraphale’s perfect, angelic, loving face. His immaculate hands held his face like he was the most precious thing in the world. A soft thumb was fondly caressing his demon mark, just below his hair.

“There was nothing you could’ve done.” Aziraphale’s voice was so calm and so even, as though he was talking a child down from a nightmare. “It was an accident. You didn’t fail me. If anything, I failed you…” His eyes crinkled in pain. “If I had been half the Angel you needed me to be, we could’ve avoided this whole mess in the first place.”

A tear crept into Aziraphale’s eye and Crowley couldn’t take it anymore.

“But then you wouldn’t be _you_…” Crowley had more to say, but the words wouldn’t come. How could he tell him? How could Aziraphale possibly understand?

“Oh Crowley…” Aziraphale also seemed to have more to say, but his words failed him as well. Unlike Crowley, however, Aziraphale appeared to know what to do instead.

Time stilled as Crowley was pulled in to meet Aziraphale’s lips. His eyes closed against his will as his heart pounded into his ears. The world stopped as Crowley’s arms reached up and found the Angel’s waist, pulling him close, terrified that if he let go, this would all evaporate like a dream. Aziraphale, in turn, adjusted his hands into Crowley’s red hair, kneading and massaging as their kiss deepened.

Crowley felt Aziraphale requesting entrance to his mouth, and he readily accepted, letting out a soft cry as they met in this new, intimate way.

Eventually, like all good things, their first kiss came to an end, as Aziraphale and Crowley gradually separated, but continued to hold each other close.

“Could I tempt you to that wine now, my dear?” Aziraphale smiled as he brushed the mussed hair from Crowley’s forehead.

“You know I could never resist _you_, Angel.” Crowley smiled back, leaning into Aziraphale’s hand. Part of him refused to believe any of this. A deep down, insecure and battered part of his soul couldn’t accept that this celestial being of infinite love could ever love him more than that. But in this moment, Crowley didn’t care. He pushed it down. Down with the flames, down with the singed books, and down with all those other doubts and fears that couldn’t stand a chance against his Aziraphale and his warm embrace.

************

Several bottles of Red, and one naughty little White, later, found Crowley plastered to Aziraphale’s side.

“Youve no IdEa, Angel…how pleazzed iwas to ssseeee your hsop thiss morning…”

“I cou-…I coooouulddd, well imagine myd-dear… I’m sorry buut I k-couldn’t help bt smile wheenn I s-s-sawww, the bentleeee…” Aziraphale leaned into Crowley’s weight and flung an arm unceremoniously around his shoulder. Crowley hissed out a chuckle as Aziraphale’s log of an arm thudded to its destination.

“Wasss so fnunyy?” Aziraphale hiccupped, lulling his head to meet Crowley’s gaze.

“Do you knowww, Angel, in sssixxxxssss thousand yearsss….thiss isz the most conctakt wevvvve everrr had? Phyzzicallalaly, I meannn.” He looked up into Aziraphale’s eyes and swallowed the tone of regret he hoped hadn’t made into his drunken ramblings.

He furrowed his brow when the Angel’s face suddenly went from inebriated goo, to a sobering stone wall. Through the swimming in his ears, he became vaguely aware of the distinct sound of wine bottles suddenly refilling. Shit.

“Wazzzzit sssumpthing I ssaid?” His heart sank a little when Aziraphale didn’t answer right away, but it did flutter when the arm on his shoulder pulled him in closer.

“Six thousand years…” Aziraphale’s voice drifted off into space, his eyes close behind. “I’m so sorry, my Dear.”

Crowley’s lip trembled as his Angel redirected his thousand-yard stare back to him and gently caressed his hair. “Ssssorry forwat?”

“For being the one who was late.”

Crowley was going to slur in an interjection, but he could tell that Aziraphale had more to say. So he closed his eyes and relaxed into the gentle combing of Aziraphale’s fingers.

“I’ve always felt it you know…” He whispered as his blue eyes shifted back into the darkened shop. “Your love… I-I didn’t know what it was for thousands of years, but I knew something was there. I’d never felt a demon’s love before. To a certain point, I was unaware you _could_ feel it, _love_, that is. I thought it just was my Angelic presence reacting to your Demonic one. Please forgive my ignorance, Crowley.” His hand stilled in Crowley’s hair and held him tighter.

“I-it was ignorance at first. I really didn’t know. I couldn’t conceive of it. I was so blind, I…. But then… Then when I gave you the Holy Water. The look on your face…when I-I handed it to you…the realization hit me so hard. I was so scared…”Aziraphale’s hand had gone from cupping Crowley’s head to holding on for dear life, but Crowley wasn’t about to move. Not until his Angel had his say.

“It was ignorance at first, but then… then it wasn’t. I knew. I _knew_ and I still did nothing. Even pushed you away, and still I felt it all the time. I was such a coward. I was so afraid of Heaven’s wrath because I still believed, deep down, they had to know what was best. But _you_ knew. You knew all along. You’ve seen right through them since day one. And you tried, so hard to get me to see. To get me to understand. And _still_ I felt it. My dear boy, even now! After everything I’ve put you through, how do you still have the capacity to sit there and love me?” Aziraphale finished with a look of panicked confusion on his face.

During this whole confession, two things happened. Aziraphale worked his decades of guilt into free flowing tears. And Crowley quietly sobered up.

Crowley let Aziraphale take a few breaths, before he finally opened his yellow eyes to meet Aziraphale’s. His question hanging heavy between them.

“To tell you the truth, Angel… I don’t know.” Crowley sat up and calmly switched their positions to where he could comfort _his_ Angel.

“It’s just always been there. Since the wall. I’ve always felt it. Like whatever got taken from me when I was cast out was filled in by you.” He pressed Aziraphale’s head to his chest so he could nestle his nose into that feather fluff hair. “When something that strong is buried that deep, I-I honestly don’t think there was ever I way for me to _not _love you.”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale sobbed into his shirt. “Could you ever forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Angel.” Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale tighter, wanting to hold him so close that they could never part again. “Like I said, you wouldn’t be _you _otherwise.”

He sighed into Aziraphale’s white locks when he felt something other than tears against his shirt. I took him a second to realize that the Angel was pressing small pecks into his chest. He wanted to remark on the unceasing preciousness of his Angel, when one of the hands that had been balled into a fist in the grey fabric started slowly making it’s way to his shoulder.

Crowley could feel Aziraphale shifting against him, so he reluctantly loosened his grip and allowed his dear Angel to scoot up enough for them to be face to face. All he could do was smile as Aziraphale’s tear-stained face bore into him. He lost the ability to sense love when he fell… but he was sure as hell sensing something now. Without a word, they both leaned in and met each other in a new, hungrier kiss.

Aziraphale moaned into his mouth as Crowley brought his arms back around the Angel’s stout frame. He felt his soft, warm body against his and Crowley couldn’t stifle the growl that escaped his mouth. He wanted more. He craved more. Six thousand years of waiting and his final wall of patience came crashing down around him.

He hungrily moved away from Aziraphale’s lips and began to mouth at any inch of skin he could reach. He pecked along his rounded jaw, nibbled at the lobe of his ear, and sucked into the crook of his neck. All of which lured wanton ‘Oh’s’ from his dear Aziraphale.

Then, without thinking, Crowley inadvertently thrust his hips upward against Aziraphale and everything ceased. Crowley couldn’t read the look that ran across Aziraphale’s face, but he was sure it couldn’t be good.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I’ve fucked it all up, haven’t I?” Crowley immediately brought his hands to either side of Aziraphale’s face, desperate to quell whatever panic was about to ensue.

“Don’t be sorry, dear boy…” He blushed as he averted his eyes from Crowley’s manic snake eyes. “I liked it…”

The erection that had been slowly forming in Crowley’s jeans suddenly went to full attention, earning another ‘_Oh!_’ from Aziraphale’s swollen lips, and it was his turn to blush.

“May I?” Aziraphale asked in the same manner a child might ask their mother for a cookie before dinner.

Crowley no longer had any words and could only fervently nod his head in the affirmative, as one of Aziraphale’s hands slid down his chest and began to fiddle with his snake belt. He slid back a little further on the couch to allow Aziraphale more room to work with, as well as to catch his breath. There was no way in hell this could actually be happening.

But it was. A fact that was made very clear to Crowley when Aziraphale managed to pull loose his belt and trousers and dipped his hand in.

“Ngk!!!”

“This appendage you’ve made, Crowley, is quite magnificent.”

“Penis, dick, cock, tallywhacker...” Crowley grunted out through gritted teeth and Aziraphale deftly held and caressed his already aching erection. “..._anything_ but appendage.”

“As you wish, my love.” In spite of every ounce of his self-control fighting it, a horrid tear, managed to make its way into his eye.

“’_My love’?” _Crowley choked as Aziraphale’s hand began to tenderly slide up and down.

“Yes, dear Heart. ‘My love.’” While quickening the pace of his hand, Aziraphale leaned forward and sealed the confirmation with a kiss.

Blissful, shattering, crippling pain, and overwhelmed with love, Crowley couldn’t take it anymore and let his orgasm wash over him, crying Aziraphale’s name to the ethereal planes. He fell into Aziraphale’s waiting arms as he shuddered through the aftermath. Another tear, less horrid than before, rolled down his cheek and was stopped by Aziraphale’s lips. As his corporation gradually shifted back into normal functions, Crowley heaved a contented sigh. Now it was his beloved’s turn. He placed his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders and quietly directed him back. “My _I,_ my Love?”

“By all means.” Aziraphale smiled warmly as Crowley continued to push him until his Angel’s back was flush against the sofa.

Even though his heart was a useless hunk of mass in his corporation, Crowley could feel it banging painfully against his chest as he loomed above Aziraphale. With a trembling hand, he carefully undid Aziraphale’s Victorian pants, and shimmied them free of his full, luscious thighs. Aziraphale snapped his fingers and his impossibly pressed pants vanished, along with his socks and shoes, saving them both that awkward pause in disrobing. Crowley was eternally grateful that Aziraphale had left his undergarments in place, though. It was like the Angel knew he wanted that task for himself. And yet, he hesitated. Maybe it was the last little bit of doubt in his mind, or maybe he wanted to savor this instant. He didn’t know.

“It’s alright, love.”

The quiet word of reassurance brought Crowley out of his head and back into this moment, and the beautiful Angel laying half dressed beneath him. Crowley moved to where he was between Aziraphale’s soft thighs and tenderly hooked his fingers into the tartan waistband. He suppressed a laugh of sheer giddiness at the sight that revealed itself beneath him. Such beautiful, soft, perfect, feathery hair as white as snow. All Crowley wanted to was lean down and bury his face in it. To give his Angel all the worship he deserved. And that’s just what he did.

The loveseat they were on obligingly stretched and widened beneath them as Crowley lowered himself to his elbows and reverently nuzzled at the downy curls between Aziraphale’s legs. Distantly he heard Aziraphale sigh as Crowley cupped a hand around his thigh and leaned in for a taste. He flicked a tongue into the pink flesh hidden under the pillowy cover and immediately found what he was looking for.

Aziraphale suddenly arched his back and let out a stuttered cry that turned into a moan. It was a heavenly sound, and Crowley was eager to hear more. He kept his eyes glued to Aziraphale’s writhing form as he leaned in deeper, capturing the sensitive nub between his lips. He traced his long fingers under Aziraphale’s legs and up his sides. When he found the Angel’s quivering hands, he held them tight and pressed a kiss into his inner thigh.

“You tell me, Aziraphale, at ANY point if you need me to stop.” Crowley gave his hands a reassuring squeeze.

“I trust you, Crowley…” was all the shaking Angel could stammer out.

That was all Crowley needed to hear. He buried his nose back into that exquisite hair and began to suck and tease once more. He smiled into Aziraphale’s skin as the Angel began to wiggle and thrash under his careful ministrations. By the quickened pace and the louder moans, Crowley could tell that Aziraphale was getting close. He released one of Aziraphale’s hands and held his arm (as best he could, given the position) across his bucking middle.

“Steady now, steady, my love.” Crowley murmured into his blessed, wet folds. “We’re almost there.”

He freed his other hand and brought it up to Aziraphale’s entrance. He would’ve miracled lube, but his darling Angel was already so wet, and just from him. He teased at the small entrance lightly before carefully slipping a finger in. This would’ve made Aziraphale shoot straight up into the air, had Crowley not been anchoring him to the ground.

“_Crowley….. “_ He keened, as his finger began to move and curl in just the right spot. “_I…oh! I can’t Crowley… I’m….”_

Crowley gave his Angel’s clit one last suck and his finger one last flick, and it was all over. With a moan loud enough to rival the celestial harmonies, Aziraphale fell apart in front of him. He stroked Aziraphale’s succulent thighs as he lapped up every last bit of his ecstasy.

He could’ve comfortably lived between Aziraphale’s legs for the rest of eternity. But after a few moments of post coital bliss, Crowley felt Aziraphale’s fingers weave back into his wild hair.

“My love… may I hold you?” Aziraphale beamed as he continued to catch his breath.

The space between Aziraphale’s legs would have to settle for him going on holiday there, as he remembered there was a better location to spend eternity.

“My love, please do.”

Crowley didn’t remember falling asleep that night. But he did remember walking up in the morning, under a soft blanket, and on top of his beloved Angel.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the art in this, I STRONGLY recommend that you find @sweathands on tumblr, and give them a follow.


End file.
